Six years ago, I found myself at the kitchen sink, desperately scrubbing a stain that simply wouldn’t come out. My hand grew numb as I gripped the sponge, while my three children—ages 4, 5, and 7—waited for breakfast. Tears streamed down my face, and before I knew it, I collapsed to the floor, unable to hold back the sobs any longer. I was trying to be strong for them, but the weight of my situation was unbearable.
Just the night before, my husband had admitted to being unfaithful. And as if everything was perfectly normal, he left for work the following morning. Fear consumed me; I hadn’t worked in over seven years, and I had three little ones depending on me. Yet, all I could think about was how I had failed both him and our marriage.
We hadn’t shared intimacy for five months. I felt exhausted and unmotivated. Though I wasn’t as adventurous in our physical relationship as I once was, he was still my partner, the one I wanted to be with. I believed we were still enough for each other.
I blamed myself for the distance that had grown between us. I thought he felt the same way about our relationship as I did—that we were simply going through a rough patch and that time would heal it. Instead, I shouldered the blame entirely, allowing it to weigh heavily on me for six long years. My friends and family urged me to stop blaming myself, reminding me that his choices were his alone.
Even when I went to my doctor after discovering he had an affair with a much younger woman, I was still unable to let go of the guilt. I was such an emotional wreck that my doctor couldn’t even complete my exam. I was trapped in a cycle of self-blame, unable to see beyond my perceived failures.
Months passed, and I found myself haunted by memories of his betrayal. Whether driving or brushing my daughter’s hair, intrusive thoughts would hit me out of nowhere. I felt like I was intentionally stepping onto shards of glass—painful, yet I couldn’t escape it.
I convinced myself that I was unlovable, that I would never be good enough for anyone, and that I should simply accept my situation. He was a good father, after all, and I feared what would happen if we separated.
Then, the fog gradually began to lift. I realized I wasn’t the one betraying our family. I wasn’t the one sneaking around or bringing home gifts from another woman. I was the one holding our family together, cooking his favorite meals, and trying to make our marriage work.
Upon recognizing that his choices were entirely his own, I felt a tremendous burden lift—like I had lost 180 pounds. I decided I needed to end our 15-year marriage and let go of the feelings of worthlessness that had plagued me. His infidelity was not my fault, and it would no longer define me.
Reflecting on my journey, I can see how much stronger I’ve become. I’ve reconnected with myself and released the anger I held against him. I realized that I couldn’t move forward with my life while still harboring resentment. I am not without my own faults, but I never sought solace in others. I believed we could weather any storm together, and his choice to stray made me question my own value.
If you find yourself in a similar situation where your partner has betrayed your trust, please listen to me: Don’t endure the suffering I did. Whether you choose to stay or leave is entirely up to you, but remember that infidelity is never your fault. Don’t spend years blaming yourself; you’ll regret it later. Their choices are not a reflection of your worth.
In the end, it’s not about you not being enough; it’s about them not being the right partner for you.
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Summary:
In this reflective piece, I share my personal journey of overcoming the self-doubt and emotional turmoil caused by my husband’s infidelity. For six years, I internalized the blame for his actions, allowing them to damage my self-worth. However, realization dawned that his choices were his own, not mine. I learned to reclaim my strength and self-esteem, urging others not to make the same mistake of self-blame when faced with betrayal.